


take a moment to find yourself

by rreyy



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Healing, pudge is shaped like a friend and that is what jess needs right now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27113029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rreyy/pseuds/rreyy
Summary: The Mints just want people to be comfortable. No matter what bad things have happened to you in the past.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	take a moment to find yourself

**Author's Note:**

> as a junior mint i thought writing about JT would be a good introduction into the mints. because hey, we’re kind of in the same boat here. also, the JT in this fic is entirely personal headcanon that pulls from other more widely-accepted hcs. None of this JT really reflects any mint-wide character decisions! if you have issues with my personal interpretation take it up with me please
> 
> ALSO CW: light smoking and a few swears

Routine has become something Jessica Telephone clings to, after everything that’s happened. It’s the only way she knows how to function now—go to practice, hit some balls, go home, stare at the ceiling, sleep, repeat. Kansas City is all nice and good, charming, really, but everyone who was trapped in the same mind-controlled frenzy that she was isn’t here. They were thrust to different cities, all across the world and she was tossed into the middle of Nowhere, USA.

The team is fine, though, really. They’re nice. It’s good to see familiar faces again. But practice with them is just a blur of muscle memory motions. Swing _crack_ run, run, run, slide. Swing. _Crack._ On the diamond or at the ranges they mostly leave her alone, which she appreciates. Let her do her thing. Let her go home, alone, let her turn off like the blaseball-hitting automaton she’s become. 

Today’s been no different for the past week or so. Jessica’s just gotten home from practice, her newly mint-green bag of gear thrust into the corner by the front door, hitting a spiderweb along the way. She’s planning on doing what she’s done ever since she moved into this apartment: shut down. 

Jessica’s about ready to do just that with a pack of cigarettes and reruns of a bad sitcom, when a knock sounding from her front door jolts her to attention and the growing familiarity of Eizabeth Guerra’s voice calls lightly. 

_“Hey Jess? It’s Izzie. We’re all going out to dinner as a team. You’re welcome to come along.”_

Shifting from her spot on her couch, Jessica stares at the door for a very long moment, half hoping if she’s quiet long enough Eizabeth will simply walk away and leave her alone, but the other half shouts from far deeper in her chest, saying, _just go with them. Let yourself have fun for once, please._

_“Jess?”_ Eizabeth calls once more. Jessica drums her fingers on a tan corduroy cushion anxiously, deciding what to do. She waits another moment, and just when it seems like Eizabeth will give up and leave, Jessica sucks in a huge breath and stands from the couch, quickly walking to the door and swinging it open. 

“Okay, I’ll go,” she declares.

Eizabeth stands surprised for a moment, then her eyes flit down Jessica’s body for a moment before returning to her face. 

“Great! Put some pants on, though.”

* * *

The Breath Mints dine in this particular Interdimensional Waffle House more often than the others, so much so that the staff allows Eizabeth and Pudge in the kitchen to help make their meals perfect for the team. This Interdimensional Waffle House is just off the freeway, a little ways from the open meadow on the outskirts of town where the team plays, on the Missouri side.

It’s a somewhat dingy place, with cramped booths and sporadically flickering overhead lights. It’s like most Waffle Houses Jessica’s been to, really, except for the one long booth with frayed red cushions that the entire team and staff shares in the center of the floor. The team, in being as accommodating as possible (which is sweet of them, really, even if Jessica doesn’t show it. She’s relieved) have positioned Jessica on the very end of the long table, in a chair by herself. And just by looking at the chaos of players bumping shoulders and kicking each other under the table, climbing over the seat backs to avoid a long line of people getting out of the booth for someone in the middle to go to the bathroom, Jessica is thankful she’s not a part of that mess. 

Most people have gotten their meals by now, except for a few where the plates couldn’t fit in the waitress’s hands. This includes Jessica, who’s just finished nursing a glass of iced tea, when she swivels her head to peer outside at the dark twilight environment so stark to the lively interior of the Interdimensional Waffle House. But it calls to her, the darkness. And for a moment it reminds her of the emptiness under the control of the Shelled One, or the loneliness of that peanut shell. But she shakes that off. Because she feels the need to light a cigarette creeping into her mind. 

Jessica’s about to stand when a hand falls on her shoulder and she feels the presence of two bodies behind her. Looking down at the hand, she recognizes Eizabeth’s fingers. Food’s here. 

But the other body is Pudge Nakamoto, and Pudge has never said a word to Jessica; honestly the two have never been that close in proximity for more than a few seconds—Jessica’s an outfielder and Pudge’s shortstop. And even though Pudge is loved by the team, Jessica is, well, still recovering. She doesn’t attend team bonding sessions. So Pudge standing above Jessica with a plate of about thirteen drinks is really the first time she’s gotten to look at them up close. 

And it’s… strange. Strange in the sense that Pudge’s form, while composed primarily of a calming, glowing mint green energy is shaped in a familiar appearance. They’re tall, broad shouldered but lanky, have messy hair, and Jessica can just make out the sight of a few extra eyes on the chiseled face, and—wait _what?_

_Sebastian?_ Why does Pudge look like Seb? Jessica heard that they can shapeshift but this… this is just so… beyond uncalled for. It makes Jessica’s blood boil.

Jessica freezes, gripping the armrests on her chair, white-knuckled as she pointedly locks eyes with Pudge. Their warm smile across Sebastian’s face makes Jessica’s mouth shoot open and she starts to blurt out vitriol before she has a chance to think.

“Is my past some kind of joke to you?” She growls. Chatter amid the one long booth lowers to a hush as she feels forty eyes burning into her back as she twists her body to look at Pudge-Sebastian behind her chair. “I thought you guys were supposed to be the ‘nice’ team but it turns out you're just insensitive assholes. Is that why you dragged me out here? To remind me of all the _shit_ I've gone through? Good lord.” 

Quite hushed over the diner. From the side, Eizabeth's hand retracts from Jessica's shoulder, and the woman gently pleads, 

"Jessica…" 

But Jessica's fiery, angry eyes move to Eizabeth's and one look forces her to retreat, frightened. Seeing this instantly pulls Jessica from her fury, and she turns to Pudge. Hurting their feelings wasn’t the goal of shouting. But seeing their face twist into shock and sadness, twist Sebastian’s face, Jessica regrets what she said immediately. There’s no time to apologize, however, because as soon as she opens her mouth again, Pudge sets down the tray of drinks and slinks away into the kitchen, dejectedly. 

Jessica sighs and excuses herself from the table, pack of cigarettes in hand.

* * *

The cool nighttime air mingles with the smoke entering Jessica’s lungs as she crouches down underneath the Waffle House’s long, single window. She makes sure she’s out of view from the inside of the restaurant, so she bows her head a little as a precaution. Allowing herself to stew in her regret for a while, letting the smoke seep into her blood, Jessica sits alone in the darkness for a few minutes. But it’s not long until she hears the squeak of the diner’s front door open and a familiar, skeletal form appears out in the chill. 

Jessica watches Leach Ingram look around for a moment as she zips up her worn leather jacket and pushes the collar up to block the wind. Finally noticing Jessica’s form crouched on the concrete curb in the darkness, folding within herself, Leach animatedly jumps in surprise before wandering over. She finds a spot beside Jessica and plops down on the ground, not caring what’s underneath her pelvic bone. The two sit in silence for a moment, Jessica watching Leach wordlessly as she takes a long drag of her cigarette—then Leach finally speaks. 

“What did you see in Pudge, Jess?”

“What?”

“Oh, you weren't really around much when Pudge showed up, huh. They really love making people happy, see, and they can sort of read your mind. That’s how they talk! They can shapeshift too, so they change form for each person they meet into something that would make them happy. So, they look different to everyone. Like, I see something that kinda looks like me. Because there's not many of me out there. Pudge makes me feel comfortable.” There’s a long moment where it looks like Leach is prompting Jessica to respond, but all she can do is sit in silence as she connects the dots.

“You don't have to tell me though. Not everyone does. Winnie's never told us, but she's always so happy to see Pudge. We're just happy she's happy.”  
And it dawns on her. Sebastian was just someone who made her happy, but now that happiness is replaced with hurt. “Oh. I'm the asshole, gotcha.” Jessica sighs. “How can I apologize?”

“Well, Pudge likes to make us tea and invite us over to their home, but I never see anyone making tea for them, you know? Just a thought.”

Jessica stares at Leach for a moment, then looks away and nods slightly, finally lifting her head to peek over into the diner. Everyone’s already laughing and shouting over each other. It looks good, really, really good. And Jessica wishes she didn’t screw it all up.

* * *

And she finds herself standing outside a familiar little home a few evenings later, holding a bag of loose leaf tea she bought from the store before arriving. Drumming her fingers on her thigh, she watches the door for a moment, ready to go back on her mission. But she squeezes her eyes shut and balls her twitchy hand into a fist, raises it to the dark green painted wood of the door, and knocks three times. 

No one comes to the door for a minute or so, until Jessica’s about to knock again with a furrowed brow, and she hears the muffled sound of a clattering of pans, and two feet bounding closer. And, as if on cue, the door swings open and the big, bright eyes of a familiar softly glowing Mint greets Jessica with a surprised expression. Pudge’s form, at least, at the moment, appears to be not particularly… stable. It shifts and melds around constantly, not staying as one size or shape. 

“Hi, Pudge.” Jessica says, offering a small polite smile.

Pudge returns the smile warmly, their eyes easing into sweet curves as they speak. Well, speak in Jessica’s head. Their mouth doesn’t move at all. 

_Hello, Ms. Telephone. This is so unexpected! What brings you to my humble abode?_

As their words filter into Jessica’s head, Pudge’s half-corporeal body begins to shift forms, and Jessica is worried she’s going to have to see Sebastian again. Until the form coalesces into something shorter, slimmer, rounder than her brother. Standing tall with the silhouette of short, curly hair underneath a blaseball cap. Jessica winces. 

_Oh, I’m so sorry._ Pudge immediately reacts, and shifts around for a moment, before settling into the familiar form of Sebastian. _I thought that one might have been more comfortable to you._

Jessica drops her head and waves a hand. “It’s okay. You’re not gonna find much comfort in here.” She uses the same hand to tap her temple a couple times. “Anyway,” she says, raising her other hand, gripping a brown paper bag. “I wanted to make you tea. As an apology.”

Pudge raises Seb’s eyebrows in surprise. _Oh my gosh, you really needn’t. I already have a pot going._

“But I do.”

_Well… I suppose I would never turn down the company. Come in, come in. We’ll use your tea._

Pudge leads Jessica inside and immediately her senses are bombarded with the smell of cooking desserts, the sight of a rather cozy little Midwestern farmhouse, and the feeling of warmth from the softly crackling fireplace in Pudge’s living room. Jessica scoffs to herself, thinking, gee, no wonder everyone likes visiting them. 

Slipping her shoes off, Jessica sets them by the door and wanders in the direction of Pudge’s various noises. She finds herself in the kitchen and steps onto cool linoleum, watching her host scramble about around the oven as they pull out a couple of trays of sweet-smelling cookies, dyed a bright red. 

_They’re peppermint._ Pudge laughs gently in her head. _You knocked right when my timer went off, so I let them cook a little longer._

“Oh, sorry. I would have waited.”

_Oh, it’s okay! Really, my oven runs a little cool anyway so they’re just perfect now. Maybe your visit is a blessing in disguise for my baking._ Then, after closing the oven door, a teapot on the stove starts to whistle. Pudge lets out a small _Oh!_ in surprise (which Jessica finds amusing to hear in her own head), and runs over to the pot, pulling it off the burner. 

_Your tea, Ms. Telephone,_ Pudge beckons. 

* * *

The two allow their tea to steep for a few minutes before drinking, and in the meantime, Pudge cleans the kitchen. Jessica occupies herself by simply watching. She’s never going to get used to seeing this ghostly version of Sebastian doing mundane things, she thinks. She wishes there was _anything_ in the world Pudge could appear as, really. Because the Seb she sees in front of her now won’t bring the real Seb back. 

Just then, Pudge folds a towel neatly and picks up their cup of tea, ushering Jessica to do the same and to walk into the living room. As the two sit across from each other, the couch for Pudge and an armchair for Jessica, a coffee table littered with doilies in between, Pudge speaks as though they’ve been reading Jessica’s mind.

_Is there something you’d rather see me be? To make you comfortable?_

Jessica thinks for a long while. Takes a sip of her tea. Then says, matter-of-factly, 

“I'd be more comfortable if you were just yourself.”

Pudge’s Sebastian smiles faintly and bows their head. Then, without a word, the form of Seb begins to dematerialize and the pure light warbles around for a moment before congealing into a rather stout, little softly glowing form of a person. Jessica can only describe this Pudge as… well, round, in every sense. Pudge smiles sweetly again, with crescent eyes, and looks down at their stubby mitten hands. Their words filter into Jessica’s head as notes of soft sounds, even the ending of each vowel feels round and warm. 

_No one ever sees me like this._ They say, somewhat sad. 

“Why? Isn’t it a good thing to be yourself?”

_I suppose. But I love this team so much that, even though I change my shape for all of them, it’s like all those shapes are a little bit of me too. The part that makes them smile, and laugh, and relax the tension in their shoulders—that’s me. I don’t have to look like me to do that._

Jessica listens intently. She sips her tea as Pudge speaks. It’s warm and cozy, with a hint of peach and it’s good. Really, really good. Something begins to stir within her. 

_With the Mints,_ Pudge continues, folding their hands in their lap. _We just want people to be comfortable. No matter what bad things have happened to you in the past. We can only hope your time in Kansas City is a good one. Even if it's the only good thing you ever have._

Pudge’s words hit like a rock.

Jessica could have sworn the Shelled One turned her into an emotionless husk. Could have sworn the ache from watching her own body do things she would never allow it to do, was gone, because she bottled it up so tight and buried it so deep that it was basically nonexistent. Until Pudge says what they do, and tears well up in her eyes at last. And she raises a hand to her mouth just as she exhales a craggy sob, then another. And another, in short succession without time for her to inhale, as if all the pain welling up inside her is so desperate to come out it won't allow her to recover, like a leak in a dam finally succumbing to the pressure of the water it holds at bay. So for a moment she thinks it will consume her and she'll never be able to breathe again, then she does, at last. And it's a huge gulp of air—like she's never breathed like this in her life.

Looking up from her cup of tea, that she only just realized she’d been gripping too hard, Jessica noticed Pudge sitting with their same, soft smile, their same friendly form just waiting. Letting her cry. And it’s funny because, well she’d feel horribly exposed if it were anyone else but Pudge, there’s something about them that Jessica doesn’t quite understand that allows her to feel. _I’ve got to give them something better than tea for this._

She hears Pudge breathe a small laugh.

_Here, I want to show you something._ Pudge stands from the couch and holds out a hand to Jessica. She stares at it, then up at Pudge, eyes watery still. They just tilt their head and smile again. She takes their hand.

Pudge leads her outside their home, onto the blaseball diamond in the open meadow just outside of town, and past the mound used for spectator seating. They climb another, taller mound meant for the press box, which is just a place for a guy to stand and do the shouting of the score. Pudge stops at the summit of the press mound. The two look out onto the field, it’s quiet except for the wind, and they see the bases, the dugouts, and Pudge’s home, smoke lazily drifting from the brick chimney. Jessica takes in the sight for a moment, a long moment, before furrowing her brow and saying,

“Um, you wanted to show me the diamond?” 

Pudge giggles. _No, silly, turn around._

Jessica turns around to a view of a vast prairie, devoid of any trace of civilization. Softly rolling hills and deep, saturated green grasses and white flowers ebb and flow gently in a cool, late summer breeze like an ocean that goes on for miles and miles. But the land isn't what's breathtaking, no, it's when the living earth meets a sky exploding with a fiery red sunset and billowing blooddrain clouds reflecting not a silver lining, but a pink one. And when she looks beyond, craning her neck upwards, the intense warm colors give way to deep blues and purples above, night beckoning, only the brightest of stars barely shining through the atmosphere.

At the sight, Jessica feels. She feels everything, again. All the bad, and all the good, she bottled up for so, so long as she was trapped in her own body under the subjugation of the Shelled One. But the good is what takes precedence. It's the happiness and wonder that fills her lungs, twinkles in her eyes, blows off the dust after ages of disuse. She cannot cry, because she is so stunned at what it feels like to smile again.

* * *

After a few minutes, little Pudge tugs on her sleeve. 

_Turn around once more?_ They say.

She does, and she sees the whole of the Mints wandering towards the press-mound. They're wearing comfortable, silly sweaters and carrying baskets of apples, containers of tea, and Izzie even holds a pie, still steaming. Jess watches in wonder as they laugh and smile and mess around with each other. She thinks: _How can they be so jovial after everything? they've lost so much too._

Pudge turns to her with the same, warm smile and says, 

_They have each other, Ms. Telephone. And now you do too._

**Author's Note:**

> first blaseball fic! hope you like it. pudge is such a joy and i'm excited to write the rest of the mints someday.
> 
> come find me on twt @wjstay_ and on tumblr @rreyy


End file.
